


Interrogation

by CaptainStormChaser



Category: Overlord (2018)
Genre: Blood, Canon Typical Violence, Dark, Fetishizing torture, Gay Character, M/M, POV Rapist, Period Typical Homophobia, Threats, Torture, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainStormChaser/pseuds/CaptainStormChaser
Summary: During his interrogation of Wafner, Ford asks Tibbet to leave the room for a few minutes.





	Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> Few things first: rape is objectively a terrible thing to do. It doesn’t matter if the victim is a Nazi. It doesn’t matter if the victim has raped someone else. Rape is not something that should happen ever. I do not condone rape. I’m using writing this to work out some of my own stuff regarding torture but under no circumstances is rape an even remotely acceptable thing to do.

Ford’s blood pounded in his ears. The captain’s blood was smeared on his knuckles, and on the Kraut’s face, dribbling onto the floor.

If he stopped focusing, he knew he’d taste copper in his throat, and it wouldn’t matter what the bastard had to say as long as Ford could feel the smack of skin on skin.

But he couldn’t lose focus. That’s why they’d taken him out of Italy.

Ford stepped away and turned his back on the Captain Wafner. He was sweating, his knife a reliable weight in his hand. Grounding him, but no longer sufficient to pull his attention from the heat pooling in his belly, scorching through his veins with every heartbeat.

Ford’s voice was scratchy when he spoke. “Tibbet, give us the room.”

A black eyebrow arched, the normally jaunty stance stiffening. For a moment Ford thought he might protest, but Tibbet started down the stairs.

Wafner was laughing. A rough noise, gargled past the blood in his mouth. He spat it out weakly onto the floor, barely any force behind it.

Ford closed the distance between them with a few steps, hauling the bloodied face up by the hair. “Something funny?”

White teeth smiled coldly. “What are you going to do, I wonder, without your men here to see? Break my fingers? Let me taste your knife?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “This is nothing, Corporal.”

Ford didn’t let his face show any emotion. Instead he crossed to the beam the electrical cord was tied to. Deft hands untied the knot. There was a heavy thud as Wafner was dropped onto the floor. The knot was retied, ensuring the prisoner wouldn’t get away.

Ford drew his sidearm, once again standing in front of Wafner, now with a pistol pointed between his eyes. “Get on your fucking knees.”

Wafner glared at him before sinking down, one leg at a time. The cord was long enough to allow him to keep his arms down, though not quite enough to sit in the small of his back.

“Are you going to kill me, Corporal?” The captain seemed unimpressed. “I was so enjoying our game.”

The sound of Ford one-handedly undoing his belt buckle was thunderous.

Wafner was on his feet the instant he realized what Ford meant to do, straining against the cord. “You filthy fucking-“

“On your knees.” Ford cut him off, pressing the muzzle of the gun into Wafner’s forehead.

It was a tense few moments before Wafner moved backwards and dropped back onto his knees. Ford pushed his pants down past his thighs, taking out his half hard cock and pumping it with a hiss at the dry friction.

“In my country you would have been shot in the streets.” Wafner snarled, pointedly looking at Ford’s face. “Put down like a fucking dog the second you even _thought_ about-“

“I’ll make sure to have a nice chat with your boss about it when we get to Berlin.” Ford answered easily.

A harsh hand grabbed Wafner by his jaw, squeezing it until his mouth opened. The gun rested on his temple as a warning, and Ford guided himself in.

There was a scrape of teeth over the delicate skin, until Ford ground the muzzle in harder.

He exhaled when his cock was as far as it would go, ignoring the half-choked noises Wafner was making. “Breathe through your nose.” Ford instructed shortly. It hadn’t been long. Three, maybe four weeks. He’d been sticking with a PFC from Kansas in his old unit. It was safer that way, for people like them, if they picked one guy and kept it under wraps.

Three weeks since that dumb fucking nineteen year old from Kansas didn’t keep his head down and ended up with Italian lead in his chest.

One hand kept the gun on Wafner, the other held him by the back of the head and drove back in when he started to pull off with each shallow thrust.

Messy, saliva drizzling into Ford’s pubic hair. Still too much teeth, giving testament to the fact that the captain hadn’t done this before. Hurried, the unique rush of a good fight working Ford far better than a bloodied Kraut sucking his dick.

Ford held Wafner’s head while he came down his throat, pulling out a few moments later. Some leaked down his chin, but at least the bastard had the good manners to swallow what he could.

Ford grabbed a rag from a heap of them in Chloe’s attic, wiping off first Wafner’s face then his dick. Ford did up his pants and turned his attention back to the prisoner.

The German’s face was flushed, his lips swollen. He was trying to catch his breath, glaring down at the floor.

Ford redid the knot of the electrical cable on the beam, dragging Wafner back up.

He heard Wafner speaking when he gathered up the discarded hood.

“I’ll gut you.” The German was hissing with a fresh surge of vitriol. “I’ll rip every part of you out while you watch, and I’ll fucking feed them to you.”

Ford did nothing but raise an eyebrow as he put the hood back on the captain’s head.

“I’m sure Chloe’s thought the same things about you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got home from seeing Overlord in theaters about two hours ago. I needed to get this out. I want to make it very clear that Chloe’s assault does not justify Ford’s actions in this fic. This is only how he is justifying it to himself.
> 
> Lighter note: Wyatt Russell’s eyes are gorgeous


End file.
